The Whole Ocean
by StoneWingedAngel
Summary: Two men, a bed, and the whole ocean ahead of them.


**Warnings: Merlin/Arthur, major character deaths.**

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><p><strong>The Whole Ocean<strong>

Merlin woke up slowly, gently, and found he was lying on his front, one arm curled under his chest and the other stretched out over the edge of the thing he'd been sleeping on. As he shifted his hand dipped and touched something wet that lapped against his wrist.

He sat up, disconcerted, and pulled his hand into the four-poster with a jerk. It was wet, and the whole world seemed to be swaying slightly. The red curtains were drawn, but a slit of light was shining through at a slant that left a shine on his wet hand.

The temperature was slightly warm in a cosy way; he pushed his hair out of his face and sat up further; he was fully clothed in his favourite blue shirt and red neckerchief. Bizarre, but he felt very comfortable.

Arthur was sitting cross-legged at the side of the bed, facing the slit in the curtains. Merlin crawled over – the distance seemed much further than usual – and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Arthur?" he whispered. "Arthur what's happening?"

Arthur turned his head slightly and kissed him on the ear. "Nothing to be scared of." He raised a hand and pulled the curtains apart. Merlin let out a gasp and scrambled back.

They were on a bed, Arthur's four-poster, but all around them was water. Just an endless ocean stretching out in dim blue and grey waves that lapped gently at the sides. Merlin had been _sleeping _with his hand dipped in the sea.

"What…"

Arthur smiled and shuffled back on the bed a little. He was sitting with his shoes off and his trousers rolled up, feet dangling in the water. The clothes were casual, the cosy ones Arthur had worn around his room only if there was no-one but Merlin there. He was holding a fishing rod.

"Hell of a last battle, wasn't it Merlin?" he said softly, and his voice was so sad and gentle that it made Merlin want to cling to him forever. "You took your time waking up."

"Arthur…I…can't really remember…" He could recall something, dim moving shapes, and someone, someone they had to fight…

"It comes back. Just wait a bit."

Merlin crawled further forwards and peered over the edge of the bed; he supposed he should be more worried but at the moment everything seemed just in the right place.

"Why a fishing rod?" he asked, slipping his hand into Arthur's.

Arthur laughed. "I don't know. I don't think there are even any fish. I just always wanted to try it. Ever since I was little."

_Morgana was her name; Arthur's sister. The dragon, breathing fire. Falling. Landing. Arthur, facing Mordred's magic with nothing but his sword and Merlin running towards him, panting, gasping, screaming over the ground in a frenzy. _

Merlin sidled closer and wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist, resting his chin on his shoulder. Arthur leaned back a little and dabbled his feet in the water, creating little splashes.

_Mordred was too strong. He'd grown. But together they'd fought and tried and right now none of that mattered._

"Are…are we dead Arthur?"

"Don't look so surprised Merlin! A bed on the ocean? Honestly, sometimes you're more of an idiot than even I expect."

"I hope we took them with us."

"Oh, we did. I think you missed that part."

"Pity." Merlin slipped his shoes off and placed his feet in the water next to Arthur's; the temperature was pleasantly cool. As he leaned back a little something dug into his spine.

Lifting the blankets revealed the book, brown leather bound, still with the faded gold gilt. When he opened it the sheets of paper fluttered open on exactly the same page it always did. Magic stared up at him from the paper, tiny cramped ink writing. He smiled, remembering the time Gaius had given it to him, all that time ago.

"You don't mind do you? That I'm a sorcerer?"

"Really, Merlin. You're not all that subtle; I worked it out a little while ago."

Merlin couldn't be bothered feeling annoyed. Instead he pulled the blankets closer around him and enjoyed the strange sensation of a sheet around his chin and an ocean around his feet. Arthur adjusted the rod slightly; it was a simple thing, crude peasant's work, but it looked sturdy and friendly.

"Arthur?"

"Mmm?"

"Why the ocean? If we're dead why are we together? On a bed?"

"I see dying has made you even more dim than usual. We died together, for the same cause. Destiny kept us together and all that. The bed…well, that's pretty special you'd have to agree."

Merlin grinned, burying his face in Arthur's shoulder and smiling against his back. "I suppose." His voice was slightly muffled, the waves lapping over it. "And the ocean?"

"Must be your idea; I was never over-keen on it."

"I like the way it moves. Maybe…maybe everyone gets an ocean. When they die."

Arthur sighed and laid the rod down on the bed; it stayed put, going against all laws of physics, which commanded it should have rolled off. Then he sat back and patted his lap; Merlin curled up on his side with his head on the spot Arthur had indicated, so he could have his hair stroked. Arthur always liked that, possibly more than Merlin liked the petting; he always wanted to be doing something with his hands, always busy.

"You were brave Merlin. Braver than I ever thought you could be in some ways…and yet I wasn't that surprised. I want you to know that."

Merlin drew his legs up and wrapped them around Arthur's gently. "I always wanted to grow old and creaky like Gaius."

Arthur threw his head back and laughed. "Of all the things to say…all those aches and pains, who needs them?"

"It would have been interesting."

Arthur carried on snorting a snickering. Merlin fiddled with a hole in the knee of Arthur's trousers he'd never got round to mending; Arthur would never let him take these clothes for long enough to do so.

The bed rocked slowly underneath them, and Merlin turned his head to look at the ocean again, visible on only one side of the bed because of the curtains drawn around the rest. The light filtered through it in reddish streaks that shone off his hands and gave everything a pink glow.

The ocean was empty, endless and boundless, with no sign of life anywhere. There was light, but he couldn't see the sun. Arthur was looking too – he could feel the way the prince's body was tensed – and his hands were still working absentmindedly at Merlin's hair.

"I feel like an egg," Merlin muttered. "An egg lost in a nest. Surrounded by a little patch of down and then…nothing."

"You're the one who put us here; _I _would have chosen the forest, personally."

Merlin pulled a face. "Forests are wet and muddy."

"I think the ocean constitutes as wetter."

"They remind of the times we got chased by things. Name anything, we were chased by it in a forest. Dragons; bandits; the undead."

"Unicorns."

Merlin's turn to laugh, quietly and sadly, remembering the beautiful whiteness of the creature. Usually he would have felt lazy, just lying here, but when there was nothing else to do he was content to just sit there and let Arthur fuss with his hair.

"We left Camelot without an heir," he said eventually, unwilling to break the peace, but the idea was nagging at the back of his mind. Arthur stopped his stroking and sighed.

"You think I haven't already thought of that? They'll think of something. My mother had relatives. Or there're my father's cousins. Camelot will be fine."

Merlin turned over, lying with his head still in Arthur's lap, staring at the canopy. "We did our best Arthur. That's all we can ever do."

"Mister Words of Wisdom are we?"

"That's me."

There was a mark on the underside of the canopy Merlin remembered had always been there; a tiny tear that had been stitched up hurriedly, when Arthur had been young man and far too proud of his new jousting lance. He'd told Merlin all about it one night, when they were lying there in a content bubble just staring at the ceiling.

He yawned and stretched, shuffling lazily. "I'm tired Arthur."

"Go to sleep then."

"I'm dead; I shouldn't need to sleep."

Arthur shrugged and wrapped his arms gently around Merlin's waist. "It'll probably take a while to get out of the habit."

There was a sudden cold breeze; Merlin shivered and wriggled under covers, pulling them up around his chin and Arthur's chest. The resulting warmth was cosy and comforting; winter at night.

Arthur leaned over and twitched the curtains fully closed, plunging them into complete darkness before joining Merlin under the covers, wrapping around him in a protective sort of way. Merlin shuffled back, and then turned over so his head was pressed into the curve of the price's shoulders.

"Arthur?"

"Mmm?"

"If we're dead…"

Arthur sighed and cut him off, rubbing a hand along Merlin's back in a long sweep. "Don't worry about it, alright?"

"Is that an order?"

"Yes. Stop worrying; you're making me nervous and I can't even see you properly."

Merlin slipped his hand into Arthur's and squeezed gently, until his fingers relaxed and he fell asleep.

When he woke again he was much less tense, and his limbs were soft and relaxed. The book lay beside his head; Arthur was fishing again.

He smiled a small, soft smile; they had the whole ocean ahead of them, after all.

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><p><strong>Wow, I'm really churning out the angst and death at the moment...I blame my philosophy lessons.<strong>

**Thanks for reading! Reviews welcome.**


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